DRD8

Chapter 8

“Not yet. We still have to organize the units, hold strategy meetings, form formations during the march, and check supply points and routes. There’ll be plenty of meetings, one way or another.”

She pretended to count the days roughly, curling her fingers daintily one by one.

“I want you to come to the tower. It’s better if I can fulfill my role as a reclusive master of the tower.”

He nodded absentmindedly and marked the day.

“I have plans then.”

“What plans?”

“Plans you don’t need to know, and don’t need to concern yourself with.”

How unlucky can someone be? Enya scoffed.

“Fine. Well, there are plenty of other days anyway. We’ll keep seeing each other regardless. That’s all I have to say.”

Enya turned her gaze to the window. He, unwilling to look at the same view, turned to her instead—her jaw, or those long, black eyelashes that held no interest for him.

Moments ago she seemed angry, but now she looked lively, like a cat on the hunt.

“Can you stop? I need to get off.”

Enya tapped the window. To reach Morghenda Forest, they had to pass through the outskirts and borrow horses from the town.

“If we go any further, we’ll have to sleep outside.”

Muttering casually, she grabbed the still-moving carriage door. But another hand covered hers—a hand belonging to a ruthless man steeped in slaughter, despite his noble name.

He slowly took her hand from the door latch. As he bent slightly to grasp her hand, his breath brushed her forehead.

Startled, she was about to meet his gaze, but he turned his head and tapped the window instead. His eyes averted at the last second, and his hand was withdrawn. Outside, a retainer on horseback leaned down.

“Yes, Captain.”

“We’re heading to Morghenda’s tower.”

A “yes” came from outside. The carriage jolted as the driver adjusted direction.

He crossed his arms lightly. The touch of her small, surprisingly soft hand lingered in his grip longer than expected.

Rather than feeling disgust, it struck him as painfully fragile. If gripped, it might crumble…

The contradiction surrounding her made him uneasy, and Enya smirked.

“The temple’s far away. Suddenly interested in me?”

“Don’t be mistaken. I just want to be sure of the route to the tower. I don’t want to waste time.”

“Then you won’t refuse.”

Enya hid her mischievous intent, pretending indifference as well.

Even by a glance, it was clear that for him to agree to come to the tower was a big mistake—a bit like walking into a cave where a starving bear lives.

‘How foolish.’

She sneered at him. With impeccable attire, broad shoulders, and a slim waist, he appeared almost flawless. There wasn’t a single flaw to exploit.

‘I want to ruin him.’

She wanted to dirty him, but not attack him through his family history. That was beyond politeness or sympathy; dredging that up would be like spitting on her own face. Enya had no prince like the Crown Prince, so in that regard, she had already lost.

Still, she remembered the delicate expression hidden behind his noble face. She planned to expose his vulnerability and turn it upside down.

‘Let’s give it a try.’

Anticipating a grand victory, Enya giggled. Helios looked at her with disdain.

One laughed, one just watched—they didn’t speak a single word until reaching Morghenda Forest.

Entering the filthy master’s study, Lyra was aghast. Enya’s room being messy was nothing new, but today was exceptional.

“Wasn’t Sir Helios coming this afternoon?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Enya’s voice, stretched across the books piled on her face, echoed out beyond the pages.

“Why? I said why, look around.”

The study, doubling as a research room, was built from carved rock, befitting a tower. Vines coiled around the rocks, books and journals piled like canyons, strange plants sprouting from unknown soil, half-used waterpipes scattered everywhere—it was utter chaos.

But this mess was mild compared to what her unrefined magic had done from Morghenda Forest to the tower. Her magic permeated the soil between the trees, and even the slightest touch could…

“Ah!”

A vine in Lyra’s view instantly turned to white sand, falling to the floor. The hissing snake, buried in the chair around Enya’s ankle, climbed up to her forehead and transformed into a wreath.

The pink rose-adorned crown was perfectly formed. Enya touched her wreath and said,

“No problem.”

“Enya-sama… today’s visitors are knights. With magic this pure, they could get hurt.”

Magic and holy power oppose each other. Touching each other directly causes destruction, and unleashing such potent magic would certainly trouble even knights. But Enya spoke boldly:

“We need to see their skill. If they faint from this, that’s a problem—we’re going to hunt the demon lord.”

“This isn’t ‘just this much,’ you know.”

“I don’t care. They say he even killed a demon lord. He’ll manage.”

Her foot dangled from the chair, signaling enough nagging, but Lyra didn’t stop.

“What on earth happened between you and Sir Helios?”

“When exactly did you meet him to call him Sir Helios?”

“Because his name is Helios. So Sir Helios.”

“He has a surname too! Depert!”

As Enya straightened up, leaves from her crown fell. Lyra looked even more puzzled by Enya’s reaction.

“Enya-sama, you usually say getting angry is a bother, so why get so worked up now?”

“Do you know what that bastard said to me?”

“Whatever he said, is it unusual for people to speak rashly after hearing rumors? Usually you’d just snort, not react this way.”

The more Lyra spoke, the more speechless Enya became. Helios was extremely unlucky, but he rarely showed his feelings openly.

“All day, you’ve been making stimulants or whatever, and you unleashed your magic over the whole forest just because that man was coming.”

“…Hearing it, it really is pathetic.”

Enya felt her strength drain. She realized her efforts were childish, though she had been excited for a week preparing.

‘All this over just Depert.’

Slowly, her reason returned. It was a trivial realization, but uncharacteristic of her. Even when she first saw him, she reacted like a toad, too strongly.

“Fine. Okay. I get it. I’ll stop.”

“No, no!”

Lyra waved her hands in protest.

“If you wanted me to stop, I would’ve said so earlier. I’m happy to see Enya-sama lively after so long. Don’t overdo it.”

“Wait, Lyra.”

Before she could finish, the area trembled as if a giant had stepped—her magic shifted. The flow of magical energy in the area changed. A shiver and excitement ran down Enya’s spine. Her cold, expressionless eyes now glowed with sharp excitement.

“He’s here.”

She straightened like a cat with its fur raised, touching the wall. Rocks under her hands ground and shifted, forming a massive space.

With her signal, the space, once like an empty frame, revealed the lush Morghenda Forest.

The view expanded, and there was Helios Depert and the knights. The massive white horse, the lightly worn white uniform—all flawless, without a speck out of place. The perfection stirred Enya’s mischievous desire.

Ah… really… so tempting to ruin.

“How long will they last?”

The overflowing magic of Morghenda Forest could easily be fatal to the knights with the slightest mishandling. She laughed wickedly at the thought of someone so strong being destroyed—it had been a long time since she’d felt such desire. It was beyond what she could control.

‘I’m already doomed.’

Even if ridiculed, she wanted to see Helios struggling under her power, imagining him hanging naked and helpless. A smile spread across her face.

Seeing Enya already lost to her desires, Lyra sat back in her chair, resting her chin on her hand. A smile lingered in her palm. Her mistress had gone a little mad, but…

“You seem pleased, that’s enough.”

Seeing Enya’s joy, Lyra was pleased as well.

“Seems we’re lost.”

An hour into Morghenda Forest, Helios’s right-hand and powerful knight, Marie, was troubled.

They had followed proper bearings, yet not a single sign of the tower spire appeared.

The verdant deciduous forest of Morghenda all looked the same. The dense canopy blocked the sky. Realizing they might be lost, Marie stuck a dagger into a tree trunk.

‘I’ll mark the tree too. It looks familiar.’

When they saw the same dagger again, they realized:

They were lost.

Not only that, but it felt as if the forest was full of monsters, and untamed magic covered every branch and patch of ground. They had to move while maintaining a state of holy power. Exhausting.

The land where the tower was rooted was entirely under the master’s control. That meant the tower’s master could freely manipulate the forest. Anyone unable to handle magic properly could never be a tower master. Being lost, and the menacing magic around them, were clearly the work of the master.